


Time and Tide

by Clocketpatch



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocketpatch/pseuds/Clocketpatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Rose are on vacation. The Doctor is spending some quality time with the TARDIS. Obviously nothing can go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time and Tide

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [drox](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=34) who won one of my offers during the [help_haiti](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/) auction. I ended up going right to town on the prompt and the fic exploded. I had to edit my original plotlines down a fair bit in order to get it done in time (and I still ended up handing it in late). One day I'll come back to this and it will probably exploded into a full-blown novella. Until then...

 

  
The TARDIS hadn’t been this peaceful for months.

The Doctor lay on his back, humming tunelessly. The innards of the central console were spilled out above him, multi-coloured wires and circuit boards dangling just above his nose. He fiddled with the connections, soldering on new bits with the sonic’s welding setting. It was a good day.

Rose and Jack were off enjoying themselves on the planet’s surface. A perfectly safe spa and shopping excursion on Persign Ultima. It was an utterly droll and boring planet by the Doctor’s taste; commercialized and sanitized to the point it gave him hives, but no harm would meet his companions there. In the meantime, he got a bit of much missed solitude.

He shifted from humming to whistling, blinking the sonic in time with his random notes. The TARDIS purred under his ministrations and the Doctor grinned like an idiot. He didn’t mind having Rose and the Captain on board — wouldn’t give it up for the world — but there were some good things in life that really did require a bit of privacy.

*

Rose sank up to her chin in warm, scented bubbles. Beneath the surface, massaging jets worked all of the stress from her muscles. Tiny cleaner fish darted between her toes, nibbling dead skin.

She’d squealed at the fish at first, but after Jack had explained, and after she’d realised that they weren’t eating her alive, it was a bit nice. Even if it did tickle.

Rose splashed foamy water across the pool at the Captain, startling the fish. Jack was trying to chat up one of the natives. They looked a bit like big bipedal lobsters with tentacle arms, large mouths, and no discernable eyes. Unless the crystalline ridges wrapping their flat heads were eyes? Rose was trying to impress Jack with her blasé cosmopolitan attitude by not staring.

“Hey, busy here,” said Jack when Rose sent another wave his way. He gave Rose a smile that said he had plans for his lobster friend.

“The Doctor told me to keep you out of trouble,” Rose said with a fake pout.

“He also told us to have fun,” Jack pointed out.

Rose responded with another splash. She really didn’t care what Jack did or didn’t get up too, but she didn’t want to be left alone. It was a nice planet, but sight-seeing was always better with two, and with the Doctor pushing them out to work on “repairs” she had to make do. Not that she’d ever classify time with Jack as just making do. They were mates, after all. Team TARDIS set to discover.

Jack ended his conversation with the multi-limbed alien, finishing with a quick wink that said he might be available later. Rose rolled her eyes. A moment later and the war was on, suds and waves and spray churning all over the place under the force of their flailing arms. It ended in a draw with both of them soaked and breathless and laughing.

Rose climbed out of the pool. The heated deck was smooth under her toes, like marble tile, but miraculously non-slick. Another lobster alien — not the one Jack had been flirting with, this one had the bright purple carapace of a spa employee — rushed to give her a fluffy white towel to dry off with. It was heated too. The fabric smelled like spring bouquets

She sank into a white, moulded plastic deckchair to dry off. She tilted her head back, relaxing. The slight curve of the spa dome distorted the golden sky. Three half moons sat brilliant white against the dusky yellow, like seashells tucked into a sandy beach. Sparse snow curled through the dry air.

Inside the dome the air was wet and warm, but not oppressive. It was just right, like an invisible blanket over her nearly bare skin. All she had on was the red bikini she’d bought from the spa boutique earlier. It wasn’t modest, but no one would be giving her labels for it either. Less could be said for the Captain’s purchase, but mostly it just made Rose laugh.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jack asked, climbing out of the pool and slicking his wet hair back with one hand. He crouched beside Rose’s deckchair.

Rose looked at him. He was wearing a little string-thing instead of proper swim trunks, but then, he was _Jack_. She bunched the towel she’d been given in her hands and looked back at the so-alien sky.

“I wonder what the Doctor’s doing right now.”

*

The ambient temperature on the TARDIS had dropped as the Doctor fiddled. Normally he’d be pleased; His human companions were so thin-skinned and the TARDIS kept the place close to roasting to maintain their comfort.

The pleasure of solitude had passed, however, and in its place there was only ice. The Doctor had conversed with his ship for hours, asking her how she was feeling, if she liked the angle he’d parked her at — It had been refreshing, comforting, ordinary — until she’d mentioned that her temporal-cooling tubes were deteriorating and that her brakes needed replacing. She hadn’t meant it to hurt. He’d asked. She’d dodged the answer. He’d pressed.

There was nowhere left in the universe to get the parts she needed. He could do a cobbled-up patch-job. It would work. It always did. Had to. He was good at improvisation. Even before _events_ had taken things out of his hands, he hadn’t been particularly good at bringing the old girl in for regular service. They’d spent so much of their time together on the run.

The Doctor hated it. She deserved better, his TARDIS. She deserved good fuel and fresh parts, a trained pilot and an over-haul by a decent mechanic. She deserved rest. She was older than him — far older. He’d pulled her out of her rest and retirement when he was just a stupid boy. He’d sent her through death and purgatory for no reason but his own moronic pride and the balm of his self-righteous bids at moral superiority.

She shocked his fingers as he went to changing inspect a dingy looking circuit.

_Leave it_

“You need a new one,” the Doctor said. “Or a good cleaning, at the least. If I can’t do anything else right.”

Another shock, stronger. He slid out from under the console.

“Fine then, I won’t. See if I care.”

_It’s not your fault._

He stood up. His leather jacket, shell, description of self, was creased from so long on his back. He did his best to smooth it down.

“Oh, so now you’re going to try to comfort me again. Poor little lost Time Lord clinging to his ship? I’m old enough to take responsibility for my own actions.”

The TARDIS prodded at him, trying to sooth his ragged edges. The Doctor shook off the mental brush. The complex array of TARDIS thoughts — deep and slow as time from eternity to nothing, sharp as bristles, rainbows poking out of corners, vortex fire. She was trying to tell him that she was happy to be his friend, that this second life was better than anything she’d experienced before her retirement.

It was true.

But they were part of each other, linked, bound. The TARDIS couldn’t hide her quiet grief from the Doctor. Not when he was looking for it. Not when he was still raw inside. And how dare she say it wasn’t his fault?

“That’s mine,” he snapped, realising what she’d been up to. He’d thought the companionship of Rose and Jack had been the reason behind his unusually restful sleep lately. He’d thought it had meant —

But she’d only been taking advantage when he was distracted.

“Give it back!”

He pounded his fist on the console. The TARDIS responded with a wave of feeling that translated loosely to: _you stupid bastard_.

They were linked and she reflected him; an endless feed-back circuit. Before Rose, after The War, there had been so many of these fights. How had he forgotten that? And how dare she? How _dare_ she take his dreams? How dare she suffer that for him? She deserved better.

The console room pulsed with his rage, with her frustration.

_Fine_ , she finally said, _take them_.

The trapped nightmares hit the Doctor like a physical blow. He staggered slightly, then stood up soldier-straight, glaring at the Time Rotor. He could feel the TARDIS’s fluttering concern and regret echoing at the back of his mind. He ignored it and walked outside, slamming the door behind him.

*

“We could go check up on him,” said Jack.

“He said he wanted to be left alone,” said Rose, still staring up at the sky.

“You know what he wanted to do,” said Jack. “Even if he was getting all tangled up in himself trying to avoid it.”

“Yeah but, he fiddles and does those repairs all the time with us in the console room. Even asks you to help sometimes.”

“Hey, I just pass the tools. He does all the heavy duty stuff. Besides, you know as well as I do that there’s a difference between flirting, foreplay, and —”

“Dancing?” Rose suggested.

“Don’t mind if we do,” said Jack. “There’s this little disco I’ve heard about, and I don’t know about you, but I want to see the moves these Persign’s have. All those extra limbs have to give some advantage.”

“You really do have just a one-track mind, don’t you?” said Rose. She gave Jack a shove at the same time, a laugh buried at the corner of her smile. “Dancing it is, but I’m getting changed into something decent first. Maybe we’ll even have to go shopping again.”

“Rose Tyler? Shopping? Well, I’m shocked.” Jack held his hand over his mouth in mock astonishment.

“The sky must be falling right?” said Rose. She swung her legs round so that she as sitting off the side of the deckchair. She pensively chewed the tip of her tongue. “Thing is…” she started.

Jack watched her patiently, settling down from his haunches to sit cross-legged on the floor. Rose mulled her big thought over, the thing she’d always known since she’d met the Doctor.

“Thing is… he shouldn’t be alone.”

“He’s a big boy,” Jack said.

“I know.”

“And he’s with the TARDIS.”

“I know,” Rose said. “I’ve just got… this feeling. I don’t know.”

“Then we’ll swing by the TARDIS on the way to the shops,” said Jack. “Get a little peace of mind. This seems like a fairly decent planet, but that man could find trouble in a fruit salad. So can I mind, but that was a very demanding fruit salad…”

Rose smiled. “Right, we’ll do that then.”

“You aren’t convinced?” asked Jack.

She stood up and started towards the spa desk to reclaim the clothes she’d come in with. “Who says I’m not convinced?”

Jack stood up slowly and also started walking — towards the pool.

“What are you doing?” asked Rose.

“I thought I’d go a few more laps while you were getting changed.”

“You’re getting changed too,” she said. “I’m not going all over this planet with you in a speedo.”

“So picky.”

*

Persign Ultima had been a warm, wet planet — once.

93% of its surface had been covered with water and shallow marsh. With constant warmth, food, and a freedom from indigenous predators, the lobster-like species which would eventually evolve into the Persign race grew to legendary size in those warm seas.

Then the planet’s orbit shifted. The long winter of Persign Ultima descended, slowly freezing the world’s oceans and marshes, sucking all of the moisture and life into long tracks of glistening ice. The Persign had shrunk in the harsh environment. Only the most cunning had survived. In the end, sentience and civilization were the result of their long battle with the cold. Probes were sent to other worlds, seeking some far off paradise they might colonize before the frost defeated them entirely.

But all of the worlds which might have supported the Persign were already taken. As a peaceful race, unused to conflict except with their environment, there seemed no way to resolve the situation. So they turned their planet into a tourist attraction. The best and most popular spa resort in the seven galaxies — or so the brochures said anyway.

Reminders of the past were scattered all along the tunnel-like corridors Rose and Jack walked down. There were murals of strange sea life painted across the curved walls and ceiling. The light was a green-blue that gave a sense of being underwater. Invisible speakers gave a constant ambiance of far-off waves.

Rose dragged her feet as they reached the last branch-off. Turn that corner and they’d be at their destination.

“Second thoughts?” asked Jack.

“Nah, just, thinking, if — it’s a bit like knocking on the door when your mum’s… never mind.”

“Got you,” said Jack. “I’ll go in first, and if he’s humping the console I’ll give you the warning.”

Rose made a face.

They turned the corner.

There was the TARDIS, tucked into an alcove, her dark blue hidden by the shadows, the lighting, and the colour of the wall. Her doors were open.

Only slightly. Only a crack.

Rose felt her stomach twitch, her breathing speed up. She ran towards the ship with Jack. He quickly surpassed her, entering before her. He was already at the top of the ramp when Rose entered, panting slightly.

“He’s not here,” said Jack.

“Maybe he just popped out for a bit?” Rose said. “Be back later right?”

“Probably,” said Jack.

Rose rubbed her arms. Her hair hadn’t fully dried yet and the t-shirt she’d put on after swimming was very thin. The cotton clung against her damp skin.

“Blimey it’s cold in here,” she said. She sat heavily on the jumpseat and stared at the doors. The Doctor didn’t walk through them. She jumped up and started pacing.

“Relax,” said Jack. “This planet, this time period, nothing is going to happen.”

“He didn’t lock the doors,” said Rose. “He always locks the doors.”

She could see the tightening of Jack’s jaw. The play on his face as he tried to keep the level head. He opened his mouth, probably to fob her off again, then stopped.

“You’re right,” said Jack, stalking towards the exit. Rose followed him out into the hall. She was the one to carefully close the TARDIS doors. The chain of her key dangled silver against the rough wood as she locked the ship. Somehow that felt like a betrayal. And all the while she kept waiting for the Doctor to pop up and berate them for being stupid apes jumping to conclusions.

Jack examined the corridor looking for clues.

“There’s no sign of a struggle,” he said. He searched for several minutes, his brow furrowing. Rose gnawed her lip. They scouted around the corridors.

“Why would he go?” Rose asked. “ _Where_ would he go?”

Jack just shook his head, clueless as her.

One of the Persign lobster-people scuttled by. Rose waved him (her? it?) down.

“Hey!”

The Persign stopped. Rose had tried to be slick before, but, this close to all those tentacles and insectoid limbs, she couldn’t help shuddering a bit.

“Have you seen a man pass this way?” asked Jack.

“Species?” the Persign asked. Its voice was clacking, wet, and oddly child-like.

Jack hesitated.

“Human,” Rose said for him.

“Tall, dark, and handsome,” Jack elaborated. “With a leather jacket.”

The Persign seemed to consider. Or, at least, Rose thought it was considering. Out here in the halls, away from the perfume of the spa, the alien smelled a bit like dead fish. Its eyeless and immobile features were impossible to read.

“No,” it said eventually. “No tourists this way with that look. Mostly Gribbons in this sector.” It cocked its head to the side, the crystalline crest on top glinted. “You are far from the human hotel sector.”

“Sorry,” said Jack. “That’s why we were asking. He’s our navigator, you see. We got lost without him.”

The alien made a low grumbling sound. It had a thick, metal device wrapped around one of its tentacles like a bracelet. After a few measured taps it projected a transparent holoscreen.

“Name of your friend?” the alien asked. “I will forward it to authorities, put out through the wavechain to direct your friend to your room. What is your room?”

“His name is the Doctor,” said Jack. “We don’t have a room. We got a bit lost before registration. Took a dip in the spa-pool first. A bit of bubbly —”

The alien made the grumbling sound again. “Then you must get room. Get room and then get search. I will take you to registration.” It paused for a moment, tilting its head the other way. “We are sorry that your visit has been interrupted by this matter.”

“We’re sorry too,” said Jack.

“We hope you will still enjoy the remainder of your visit,” the Persign said.

“I’m sure we will,” said Rose, trying desperately not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. “Once we find the Doctor.”

*

The room wasn’t cramped, but it wasn’t large either. It had the economically measured use of space endemic to cheap hotel rooms everywhere. The effect was intensified by the lack of windows and the underwater mood lighting. The single bed was shaped like a giant clam shell and overflowing with silky red sheets and white velvet piles. Rose eyed it dubiously.

“I’ll take the floor if you’ll lend me a pillow,” said Jack. He noticed the look Rose was giving him. “I’m sorry. The discount doubles were all booked. This was the best I could do on a budget.”

“We have a budget?” asked Rose.

Jack waved the credit stick the Doctor had given to them before shooing them off that morning. “About fifteen hundred Geet. The luxury suites cost five hundred a night and we don’t know how long we’re going to be here. It was seventy-five for a single.”

“We aren’t going to be here for three nights, so I don’t see why it matters. And you aren’t going to sleep on the floor. Because we’re going to find the Doctor. And even if it does come to that there’s plenty of room in the TARDIS.”

“It would be suspicious if we were seen coming and going from the TARDIS,” said Jack. “It’s in the wrong part of the complex.” He fidgeted. “It would be better if one of us was out looking.”

“I’ll go,” said Rose.

“No — I mean. I know this planet, this particular resort, very well, from… I know it well.”

“You’re just going to leave me alone?”

“Someone needs to wait for the message. If the Persign find him….”

“Fine,” said Rose, maybe a bit more testy than she needed to be. She lowered herself into the clam shell bed. It was obscenely soft. “I’ll just wait here, shall I?”

“I’m sorry,” said Jack.

“No, s’okay,” said Rose. She hugged one of the faux-pearl pillows. “Just find him, right?”

“Hey, chin up,” said Jack. Rose did her best to smile. She continued cuddling the pillow long after he’d left.

She was on edge. They’d had a good run of adventures before coming to this planet. For a while, everyone had lived, every planet had ice cream, and no one had tried to throw them into any drippy dungeons. Even the Doctor seemed to be getting better, more open, less sad. She hadn’t caught him doing that thing where he just stared off into space since Jack had come on board.

But then he’d started complaining about having no privacy — despite the fact that the TARDIS was huge and he apparently didn’t sleep. They'd been half-hearted complaints though. He’d just been putting on a show for their benefit. Playing the part of the cantankerous old alien.

And now — what? Nothing good, Rose knew. Because luck was always against them.

She stood up and paced the room. It was nice enough looking, luxurious even, but the toilet was in the hall. Discount indeed. There was what Rose assumed to be a clock on the wall. It was shaped like yet another marine shell, but Rose couldn’t for the life of her tell time with it. It had three hands pointing at eighteen symbols that were maybe numbers. Every once in a while it made a chirruping sound.

Rose raided the room’s small closet looking to see if it had any books, board games — anything to keep her from going out of her tree with boredom. She found a small, human-sized bracelet like the one the Persign had used to call up his holoscreen. Rose fiddled with it a bit. She manage to get the screen up, but she couldn’t figure out how to place a call or change the channel. She couldn’t figure out how to turn it off either, and she ended up burying it under a few towels in the closet when watching alien Big Brother became too much for her.

She sat on the bed for a long while, twiddling her thumbs and trying to keep her mind from wandering. Several times she got up and went to door. She’d open and stare out into the hall, peaking her toes out for a moment, arguing with herself, before retreating, bored and exhausted, to the clam shell bed. Don’t wander off. Right. She wanted to go find Jack. She wanted to go find the Doctor.

Rose hated inaction worse than anything, but she forced herself to sit. The Doctor would bee found any minute, she told herself. Any minute Jack would come through that door with the leather-clad git in tow. Any moment the Doctor would stride in with Jack trailing sheepishly along behind him. The Doctor would roll his eyes and make some stupid human jokes. Then they’d all go out to get a drink and dance and —

She waited. And paced. And waited.

And finally she fell asleep on the big stupid theme bed, tossing nervously against the sheets. When she woke up the next morning Jack was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching something on the holoscreen. Rose sat up to see that it was a three dimensional picture of the Doctor, slowing turning above Jack wrist.

“I visited the TARDIS again last night,” he said, his voice toneless.

“And?” Rose urged.

“Nothing.”

Rose flopped backwards with an exasperated sigh. She stared at the waves and swirl patterns etched onto the ceiling and thought that she was very quickly becoming sick of the under the sea theme.

Jack had brought a breakfast of herbal tea and some kind of fruit-flavoured soup. It was oddly refreshing. After, Rose visited the loo in the hall. She did her ablutions and finished up by looking at herself in the big fish-shaped mirror hung above the communal sink.

“You look a bit down.”

Rose turned to see a human woman in her late forties. At least, Rose though she was human. She was short and round and had bright green hair, but that was probably just dye. The blue flames printed around her eyes could have been make-up or tattoos. Rose voted make-up, given the small powder case the woman had open on the counter.

“A bit,” said Rose.

“You should go for a trimming,” said the woman. She picked up an applicator from her case and started to apply an orange border to her flames.

“Trimming?” asked Rose.

“I’m going this afternoon,” said the woman. “I always feel so much better afterwards. Like I’ve let down a great burden.”

“Yeah…” said Rose, eyeing the woman’s jiggling middle, “I don’t think I need it, thanks. I’m just… I'm looking for someone.”

“Well I hope you find him dear,” said the woman, finishing her elaborate make-up job with a comical puff to her nose and cheeks. White glitter dust flew everywhere and she sneezed dramatically. She tucked her cosmetics away, examining Rose critically. “Appearances are important you know. Presentation. But also mental hygiene. You have to be optimistic!”

Rose smiled weakly, reminded more than a bit of her own mum on a man hunt. “I’ll try that,” she said.

The woman patted her on the shoulder on her way out. “Good luck.”

*

Fifteen days later, and Jack was giving up hope. He knew from experience that there was a thin window to find missing persons and they were well past that. He tried to keep Rose cheerful, but he knew she was reading the truth in his eyes and her increasingly forced optimism was painful to watch.

Their credit stick was just about used up. They could afford one more night. Rose was already talking about how they’d just relocate operations to the TARDIS. She was faithful to the end, but Jack didn’t want her to spend the next six months, years, decades, chasing a lost cause. The Doctor had told him about the TARDIS’s emergency programs, and if the Time Lord didn’t turn up in the next 24 hours Jack was going to use them.

The resort wasn’t large and Jack had been over every sea-themed nook and cranny over the past two weeks. The Doctor was nowhere to be found. With time running out he made his daily search more extensive than usual, checking in with all of his usual contacts.

At half-past Glotec in the afternoon (local time), Jack’s rounds brought him to the resort’s main drinking establishment. He cast a weary glance around the premises, noting the positions of regulars and tourists alike. A group of pink, hair-covered Gribbons were being rowdy at the bar.

Jack was just about to leave when the Gribbons cleared, revealing a man sitting slouched over on a barstool looking none-too-steady. His trademark leather jacket and jumper were missing. Instead, he had on a flimsy algae-weave tourist shirt with a pale blue and white ocean print. It looked wrong, hanging too loose against his lean body and craggy face. He hadn’t shaved in a while and it looked like he’d lost weight. He had a drink in one hand and at least a dozen empties on the counter.

Jack stormed over to him. Took the Doctor’s shoulder and spun him to face the music.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jack asked. “Rose and I have been looking everywhere for you. For two weeks! She’s been going out of her mind with worry. The credit account you gave us is just about empty. And what have you been doing?”

The Doctor looked at Jack blearily. His piercing blue eyes, the ones that could cut diamonds with their glare, were fogged. He was having obvious trouble focusing.

“Who are you?” the Doctor slurred after some consideration. He blinked a few times. Shook his head. Tried again to focus on Jack. “You look like my…” He shook his head again. The drink in his hand sloshed over its edges. “Who are you?”

Jack bit his lip. He was angry, but he was also concerned, because this whole thing, it just screamed _WRONG_ from about fifty different angles. The Doctor really wasn’t the kind of man Jack could see wandering into a pub to drink himself silly to the point where he out and out forgot who his friends were. That was Jack’s style, back when he was a con-man.

Jack put his free hand on the Doctor’s other shoulder, holding him steady in a double-grip.

“Doc,” Jack said. “I know you’ve had a lot to drink, but I think you remember who I am. Jack. You know? Captain flash? How about Rose? Do you remember Rose?”

“Who’s got a Doc?” the Doctor asked, shaking in Jack grip. “I don’t flash in the light. Only the bright light. Did you know you can make the lights come and go with the switch? They showed me that.”

“Who showed you that?” asked Jack. He really was panicked now. This was more than just a bit too much to drink, he was sure of it. Besides, how many times had the Doc bragged about his ability to metabolize alcohol?

“I showed me that!” the Doctor said. “Even a stupid ape like you should know how to work a light switch, or a television, or a…a… but I know how to make transactions too. I give them credit and they give me a drink. That’s good.”

“So I can see,” said Jack, surveying the empty glasses. “But I think you’ve had a few too many.”

“S’almost time for them to pick me up then, bring me back to my room,” said the Doctor. “They come when I get tired. S’good.”

“Who?” asked Jack, steel in his voice. Of course it wasn’t just drinking, and of course the Doctor hadn’t just run off and left them. There was more to the story — there always was. And Jack swore, vowed, that if any permanent damage had been done, then those parties responsible would pay.

“Don’t know, don’t need know,” said the Doctor. “Happiest when I’m not thinking, that’s why this is best place, but… I’m tired now.”

The way he was talking. It wasn’t just drink, it was like some kind of regression. He looked dopey, like he’d been drugged up. He was swaying, even with Jack’s grip on his shoulders, and Jack wasn’t surprised at all when the Doctor’s eyes shut and he fell forward into Jack’s arms.

“Whoa, big fellow,” said Jack, steadying the semi-conscience Doctor. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Jack slung the Doctor’s arm over his shoulders and started half-carrying him out of the bar. The bartender made some disgruntled clacking noises with his mandibles. Jack held up his free hand.

“Put it on my tab then,” he snapped.

He carried the Doctor back to their rooms. To safety.

*

Jack fumbled with the key in the lock. After the first week it had become impossible to keep Rose in the room waiting for a message that, in Jack’s opinion, probably wasn’t coming. He shoved the door open with his hip and managed to drag the Doctor into the room and to the edge of the clamshell bed.

Jack checked his watch. It was nearly lunch and they’d agreed to meet back in the room to eat and discuss their game plan. Jack sank to his haunches and waved his hand in front of the Doctor’s face. No response. The Time Lord was smiling like a dope and staring vacantly off into space. Jack wasn’t entirely sure he was conscience.

Rose couldn’t see him like this, that was for sure. Jack swore and switched techniques from hand waving to finger snapping. Nothing. He flipped open his watch. The alien tech buried in it could do a partial scan, but Jack had never tested it on the Doctor’s biology. Several errors later, Jack finally got some basic stats.

They didn’t help any. As far as the scan knew, and Jack wasn’t sure how much he trusted the results, the Doctor was physically fine.

There was a click at the door. Jack tensed.

“Come on Doc, the time for games is over,” he whispered urgently and to no effect.

A moment later the door banged open and Rose tromped in. The dull determination that had become fixed to her over the past two weeks evaporated instantly when she saw who was sitting on the bed.

“Doctor!” she shouted, running to his side. “You found him!” she said.

Jack averted his eyes as she sank onto the bed next to the unresponsive Time Lord. He could hear her talking to him, her voice becoming increasingly high-pitched and worried.

“Jack?” she asked. “Jack, what’s wrong with him?”

Jack examined the blue floor tiles, wondering at the sound Rose’s hopes would make as they were dashed against them. “I don’t know,” he said.

There was another click at the door. Jack looked up. It didn’t open. Instead, there was a tentative knock.

“Come in,” Jack said wearily.

The door opened. Two Persign’s scuttled in, one with the bright purple staff colouring, the other with a brilliant orange and black carapace indicating that it was a member of the security team.

“What did you do to him?” Rose asked darkly.

“Many apologies,” said the purple one, its mandibles working furiously.

“If you’ve hurt him,” said Jack, rising menacingly to his feet. The security lobster clicked disapprovingly, and Jack knew there was little he could do against it. The Persigns were pacifists by nature but they were still huge, well armoured, and quite able to do some not too-insignificant damage if provoked. None of that stopped Jack from glaring.

“The Persign spa company gives all of its condolences,” said the purple one, “ and offers you a free hotel voucher, to be used at your convenience.”

“We don’t want any voucher,” said Rose. “You’ve known where he was the whole time haven’t you?”

Good girl, thought Jack. He continued his steady glare as she spoke. If the Persigns tried anything he’d do what he could.

“Fix it,” said Rose. “Whatever you’ve done to the Doctor. Fix it now.”

“As she says,” said Jack. “Fix it.”

“We are sorries many times,” said the purple one. It bowed its head briefly, its crystalline crown flashing. “The trimming went wrong.”

“The what?” asked Rose.

Jack’s stomach dropped.

“You didn’t,” he said.

“He wouldn’t stop clinging,” said the purple one. “He wouldn’t let go.”

“He would never consent to that,” said Jack.

“He was so sad,” said the purple one. “No one on Persign should go home sad. If people leave sad then no one will come. Then how will we fight the freezing?”

“So you just broke into his head to edit him a bit. You idiots. He’s not human. Do you have _any_ idea how many galactic treaties you’ve broken; the kind of damage you might have done?”

“Jack…?” asked Rose.

“We tried to fix him,” said the purple one. “We tried to teach him back to normal. It is our guarantee if a trimming goes wrong. You weren’t supposed to re-meet yet.”

“Oh, I saw that fixing. You taught him what a light switch was and how to spend credits. Then you dumped him in a bar. How does letting him rot his liver help exactly? And dressing him in… whatever the hell that is.” Jack felt the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to contain his anger.

“We thought he’d be more comfortable. We will bring his old clothing,” said the purple one. It nodded to the security lobster, who flipped out its holo and started making the order. The purple one turned back at Jack.

“We could trim you also if you are very upset?” it said.

“Is that a threat?” asked Jack.

“Will not do without consent,” said the purple one.

“Get out,” Jack said. He kept his teeth gritted together. Both lobsters looked at him, their crests glinting, then they nodded and scuttled away. With their exit Jack deflated.

“He’s going to be okay right?” asked Rose.

“Yeah,” Jack lied. “It’s just temporary. He’ll be right as rain before —”

“I’m not stupid,” said Rose.

Jack sat down on the Doctor’s other side. He took Rose’s hand across the limp Time Lord’s lap.

“I met a few people talking about getting trimmed. I thought it was just some weight loss program. Sort of thing people do at a spa right? But it’s not is it? They did something to him.”

“They edited his memories.”

“Yeah, I caught that,” said Rose. She swallowed. “It went wrong. Because he’s not human.”

Jack rubbed Rose’s fingers, trying to be reassuring. Not human was the probable explanation, but the Doctor had shields, strong ones from what Jack had seen. The Persign’s were powerful psychics, it was one of their main wasy of communicating, evolved back when their world had been warmer and they’d swam in loose pods, keeping touch over thousands of miles. It was one of the reasons they’d been so unsuited for starting territorial wars, and, at the same time, so good at their new job as spa attendants —

They felt pain, they abhorred it, and they would do anything they could to stop it. Breaking into the Doctor’s mind, Jack shuddered at the damage that might have done, undoubtedly permanent. The Persign were normally good at containing their urge to “fix” people, but the Doctor was brimming with pain and memories. Nine hundred years, Rose had said. How much of that had they tried to edit? How much had they mucked up in the process?

There was a nervous knock and a dull purple attendant scuttled into the room, carefully dropping the Doctor’s jumper and leather jacket on the floor before scuttling back out. Jack hoped that the worry Rose had been radiating for the last two weeks stung its backside on his way out.

“We should get him back to the TARDIS,” said Rose.

“I agree,” said Jack.

*

Rose and Jack walked down the hallway with the Doctor slung limply between them. Rose had redressed him in his jumper and jacket before they’d left the room. She’d thought it might cheer him up a bit, or maybe bring back some lost memory, but he didn’t react at all.

“You said he was talking before?” Rose grunted, trying to keep up the weight on her end. The Time Lord was heavier than he looked. She knew Jack was strong, but she was a bit impressed that he’d managed to manoeuvre the Doctor all the way to their room without help.

“Not very coherently,” said Jack.

Rose blinked hard, trying to keep everything inside from spilling out. With his arm linked over her neck and his head lolling to the side, she could smell the Doctor’s breath strong and unavoidable. He smelled like old Tom who used to wander around the council asking for handouts. Jackie used to bring him tea when the weather got bad, said that he couldn’t help what he was.

The cheerful fish murals seemed to mock them as they lugged their load down the hall. Rose would be happy if she never saw another shellfish again. The past two weeks had been filled with too much seafood and not enough chips, too much blue light and not enough sun.

They passed into the Gribbon sector. The pink-haired bipeds just _stared_ as they went past. They were ever so slightly xenophobic, Jack had told her, as a species they were only just starting interstellar travel. Rose didn’t care, she found them creepy. Them and the giant lobsters. They couldn’t leave this planet fast enough.

Finally they got to the TARDIS. Rose unlocked the door and Jack brought the Doctor in resting him on the jump seat. Rose stood still for a few moments, taking deep, even breaths. It was cold and fog steamed out in front of her.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Is there an infirmary on board?” asked Jack.

“Probably,” said Rose. She chewed her lip. “I don’t know where it is.”

Jack swore softly. Rose went over to the jumpseat, shoving the Doctor slightly to the side to make room. She rested his head across her lap and stroked his hair and bristly cheek.

“I guess… I guess we’re stuck then,” she said.

“No,” said Jack. “There’s…” He stopped, hitting the console with a closed fist. Rose flinched. “This isn’t right,” said Jack.

“He’ll come back,” Rose said. She leaned forward, curling protectively around the Doctor. “He always comes back.”

“Rose, we have to be realistic.”

“He wouldn’t just leave us,” she said. She cradled the Doctor head in her hands. There was the slightest of tingles as a warning, and then it all hit her at once. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor and Jack was standing over her.

“Whoa,” Rose said.

“What happened?” asked Jack, the panic clear.

“The TARDIS,” said Rose, not entirely sure how she knew that, but entirely sure that it was true. “She needs a connection. She has everything. She was keeping it safe.”

“She’s what?” asked Jack.

“He was angry. She’d — but it doesn’t matter now. The Persigns were outside. They kept trying to steal it, and he was so angry, and he kept trying to hold on. He’d let them take anything, but not that. But she was holding it too. So it all went to her.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” said Jack. He helped her to sit up.

“The War,” said Rose, softly, almost afraid to say it out loud. It was so private, she didn’t want it in her head. “They tried to take the War from him, but he wouldn’t let it go.”

“Bloody martyr.” said Jack. “He keeps beating himself up over things that aren’t his fault. No wonder the Persigns —”

“It’s not that,” said Rose. She blinked. She could see Jack’s face and the console room, but there was a different console room superimposed on her vision, several different versions. One was on fire, one was spitting sparks, one was filled with people she’d never met, but felt sure that one day she would. One of those people was Jack. Time danced and in the middle of it stood the Doctor, his face changing but his body unswaying as the fire consumed everything around him. She saw friends turned enemies, and enemies become friends. She saw love turn into hate. She saw the steel trap jaw of the Nightmare Child. She could hear the screams.

But she could also hear the laughter.

“He doesn’t want to forget them,” she said to Jack, blinking back tears. “All of his friends, all of his family, as they were, as they will be, as they might have been. He doesn’t want to forget them screaming, because that’s the last memory he has. Because no one else remembers and if he forgets, if he forgets —”

The TARDIS seemed to swell around her. The frigid air warmed.

“He’s not the only one who remembers,” said Rose. She stood shakily. She turned to where the Doctor had fallen across the jumpseat. He was half-on, half-off. Jack had his hands tenderly on Rose’s shoulders, ready help if she stumbled again, but she didn’t.

She carefully touched the corners of the Doctor’s forehead, just as the TARDIS told her. She felt the huge, vast, unearthly release as time and memories poured through her. Rose tried to touch a few, but the TARDIS jostled her mind away.

_That’s not for you_ , she said. _Not yet_

Then everything was black.

*

There was coolness on her forehead. The first thing Rose saw when she opened her eyes was a nice earthy green framed with black leather. She could smell the leather, the steady hum of the ship, and freshly laundered sheets. The sheets were pulled up nearly to her chin. The coolness on her forehead was a hand.

Rose looked a bit higher. A worried face crinkled into a smile. “Doctor.”

The smile crinkled into a grin, a jubilant laugh, a kiss on the cheek. A glance to the doorway, where another worried man stood.

“She’s going to be alright, Jack. Oh, fantastic. Thank you.” The Doctor looked at the ceiling. His blue eyes brimming with life and forever. “Thank you.”

Rose shifted. She blinked, her vision was getting clearer with every moment. Also, she realized, she was hungry.

"I could murder some chips..." she said.

"Chips it is then, your wish is my command," said the Doctor. "Jack?"

"Chips are good by me."

Rose watched the Doctor. He was practically dancing on her bedside. She could still almost see the time ghosts overlaying him, but that was fading too as the moments passed. There was all that worry and joy and sorrow and everything stuffed under his leather jacket. He was a spring coiled and pressed. He was alive.

He was him. He was him. He was full.

"Thank you," Rose whispered. In her mind she vowed to never, never let him be alone. Even if what she had seen said otherwise. Those memories were fading fast. She could almost believe they weren't true. Maybes instead of definites.

"What was that?" asked he Doctor.

"Chips," Rose said. She sat up, her sheets falling across her lap in a crumple. "And hold the fish!"

All around them, the TARDIS purred.

 

 

 

_fin_

* * *

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This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=35660>


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